


Deliverance

by frustrataed



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: F/M, Gun Violence, Heavy Angst, Joker Spoilers, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-11-24 07:09:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20903666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frustrataed/pseuds/frustrataed
Summary: “Tell me, is there someone in your life who's been sharing your life too closely? A friend or a loved one? Is there someone who's been taking up your time and not giving any of it back?”― Alexandra Kleeman





	1. Small Things

**Author's Note:**

> JOKER (2019) SPOILERS!

Saying that you’d been there, that you’ve gone through what he was still going through, that you were driving yourself mad like he was, no, that would be a lie. Unlike him, life had been fair to you. Your family didn’t reside in Gotham, but still, its existence was enough. You knew that there were people you could rely on and that was all you needed.

You had a decent job, a dangerous one, but you tried to make the best out of it. You’d always try to see the bright side of being a reporter in Gotham City. However, aware of the recent events, you couldn’t help but hesitate when it came to going out at night to take photographs of “whatever will make a great Headline, okay?”

Your late-night travels in Gotham caused you to return home after midnight, and it sucked. It sucked because you were sleep-deprived. It was exhausting, both physically and mentally and the escape you so needed was not anywhere to be seen. You needed a break but you were aware that even that was too much to ask. Once you got fired, you knew it would take forever to get a new job. Gotham was rotting from the inside.

After a long night of wandering in the city, you finally took the subway home. You were sitting next to a woman who was reading a book, clearly unbothered by the small group of men laughing like idiots right opposite of you. When they started talking to her, one of the men throwing some of his french fries at her, the woman simply threw them a pitiful glare before getting off at the next stop.

You suddenly felt vulnerable and helpless. What if these guys tried to get to you too? There weren’t any other people in this wagon, just you, the three guys and…This man dressed as a clown. The man that was now laughing hysterically, catching your attention. You got the chills, things were getting weirder and weirder and you just couldn’t wait until you got out of there.

When these men got up, approaching the clown, you let out a sigh of relief you’ve been trying to release ever since you got οn; They’d found someone else to focus on. But that was an innocent thought. A selfish one, sure, but you never imagined that within a few minutes they would throw him on the ground and start kicking him violently. The man was yelling for them to stop, letting out screams of pain mixed with… laughter? You couldn’t quite catch everything that he was saying, some muffled stops and “not my stuff, please!” 

You were terrified. You’d never been the heroic type, you preferred staying in the safety of shadows but this time, something inside you caught fire. The urge to help him washed over you and with angry eyes, you shot up, dropping your things on your seat before approaching the three men.

“What the fuck are you doing? Leave him alone, now!” You tried to sound as confident and brave as you could, but the tremble in your voice gave away more than you could control.

“What’s your problem, bitch? You mind your own fucking business unless you wanna end up like this asshole!” 

Chills ran down your spine as you let his words slowly sink in. What were you doing? You could end up severely injured or even dead for the sake of a man you didn’t know. But you couldn’t just stand there, watching that horrible scene unfold in front of your tired eyes. Gotham had its own poison now, that of injustice, it sprayed its people with it and just let it spread. All hell broke loose, the city could never be saved and you knew it. Wayne’s promises were empty.

You took a step back from them, contemplating on whether asking for help from another wagon or even the driver was a good idea. The subway was empty at this hour, it could take several minutes for you to find someone. Your heart was beating really fast and your brain was panicking, not allowing logical and sane thoughts to enter your head.

The horrible scene turned out to an utter nightmare when you heard a gunshot. Then another and then another one…Tears of terror started pooling from your eyes as you saw two of the men fall down, blood jetting from where they’d been shot. The clown was holding a gun as he tried his best to retain his balance and get up.

You were frozen. You wanted to scream, run and never look back…

You couldn’t. You just couldn’t. It was like your whole system had suddenly turned off. Your legs weren’t responding to your orders, instead, they started to shake, ready to give in at any moment. All you could do was stand and watch as the third man ran past you, ran for his life, something that you should have been doing successfully. 

You closed your eyes tightly, choked sobs escaping your lips as you prayed, Prayed that you wouldn’t be next. That in some way, you’d turn invisible or find yourself wearing an armor.

None of that happened. No angel came to the rescue, no miracle happened, nothing. You were simply ignored.

You were seen but ignored. Because you simply did nothing. You didn’t make fun of him. You tried to help.

And he’d thank you later. He had been memorizing your face for a while. You never felt his eyes on you, you didn’t even notice when he’d got on…

He’d thank you later, he knew he had to somehow…

But for now, there was this man he just couldn’t let run away. He had to get what he deserved.


	2. If By Chance

Your door closed with a loud bang as you collapsed on the floor, eyes burning, heart shattered. You didn’t know what to think, how to feel. Your mind was a knot you couldn’t seem to untie. Everything you’d witnessed happened so quickly, you were completely caught off guard, resulting in your passiveness. When the two men disappeared farther into the other wagons, you quickly grabbed your things and stepping over the dead bodies, you got off at the next stop. You ran like you’d never done in your entire life, in fear of the clown changing his mind and trying to kill you too. You kept repeating to yourself that the gunshot you’d heard was just in your head. You knew it wasn’t.

Once in the safety of your small apartment, you tried to catch your breath. Organizing your thoughts was now a priority. You had to think clearly, in order not to lose it too. You’d just witnessed a cold-blooded murder, yes, that happened. And it had been some time since the incident, maybe an hour, an hour and a half, you weren’t sure. You wanted to call the police, you felt like you ought to do that. Your hands, however, didn’t seem to be getting the message.

You decided not to get involved, keeping whatever you’d seen to yourself and yourself only. There was nobody around when you left, hopefully, the only person that had last seen you was the killer. And the more minutes went by, the more time he had to get away with his murders. Contacting the police at that moment would be helpful for the investigation that would follow. There where higher chances he’d get caught and arrested. Still, you did nothing.

You lay in bed, wide awake, the scene playing in your head over and over again. You were exhausted but all this stress prevented you from sleeping even for a minute. Were you really safe? What if you weren’t? How were you supposed to go to work the next morning? You were far from okay and not really hard to read. Your boss, maybe your coworkers, someone would eventually notice. Lying wasn’t your specialty, either...

Your telephone started ringing and you let out a startled scream, immediately placing your hand on your mouth. You got up in an instant, your hand lingering over it for a few seconds before finally picking up; you were supposed to be sleeping. You sat close to your nightstand as you brought the receiver to your ear.

“Hello?” Your voice was hoarse and barely audible. You glanced at the clock on the plain white wall; 3 in the morning. You bit the inside of your cheek, ready to hear a male voice telling you that they’re calling from the GCPD. 

“Y/n? I‘m so sorry I’m calling you at this hour, I really am, but we have breaking news and Seaver needs you here, now!” As soon as you heard the very familiar voice, you relaxed, letting out a sigh. You rubbed your forehead as you closed your eyes momentarily. You were okay. Things were going to be okay.

“Vicki?”

“Yeah?”

“I think I’m going to be sick...” It wasn’t a total lie. Your forehead was warmer than usual and your throat burned. But these could just be aftereffects of the shock you’d been through. 

“Isn’t everyone in this city? Look, I know what you mean and Andy told me you were working late but this isn’t my call, I’m sorry. Seaver is freaking out, there were three murders in the subway and copies should be ready by six-” 

You’ve been working with Vicki for years, you knew she had definitely offered to cover for you. Things must have been pretty crazy in the offices of the Gazette for her to call you. Seaver must have been pretty desperate to find suckers to edit and print for the next few hours. It didn’t matter that you were a photographer, you could still be a sucker.

“Alright, fine. Fucking fine...”

“Hey, if it makes you feel better, I’ll come pick you up whenever you tell me, okay? I know it’s late, Gotham isn’t the safest place to get about at this hour...”

“We live in Gotham, Vicki, let’s be honest, there’s never an hour when we can get about safely...” You let out a bitter laugh, knowing that the situation had taken tremendous dimensions. No one living in Gotham was safe, as it turned out, not even the elite.

You hang up after a few minutes, asking Vicki to be there in about half an hour. That meant thirty minutes for you to mentally prepare yourself. You had to put on your regular face, not the guilty one, not the_ I know everything but I never called the police_ face. Well, at least you had to try.

You sat on the floor, putting your cold hands on your head. You had to get it together, pretend like none of it happened. It was impossible to erase the images still floating in your head, but you could make an attempt to put them aside. What confused though was your unwillingness to be clean with everyone. Admitting the truth seemed like the hardest task you’d ever undertaken. Why, why, why? Why couldn’t you act like any other normal person would?

Maybe deep down, in the pit of your heart, just maybe, in the depths of your consciousness, you felt like they deserved it. Gotham was unable to stomach that many scumbags and three less was better than nothing. You valued human life, you really did and you felt sick when you saw those men being deprived of their own like that.

But maybe, just maybe, you lived in a world in which civilized methods had no power or value anymore. A cruel thing to say, but it was likely to be true.

You got out of your apartment with silent moves, not wanting to disturb your next-door neighbors. You locked the door, fixed your coat and started heading toward the stairs. Most of the dwellers in the condo used the elevator, but you figured that as a claustrophobic, it was anything but fitting.

You abruptly stopped when you saw a male figure occupying the first steps. He just sat there, his head buried in his knees. You could hear him whisper a few incoherent words as you approached him, not really knowing what to do. You couldn't just walk over him and leave...

You hesitantly tapped his shoulder, immediately retracting your hand when he started to move. He lifted his head to look at you and you swore you'd never seen anyone like this before.

Lost was the first word that came into your head. No, not as in the wrong condo, or lost in the streets. Lost, just completely and woefully lost. No specific emotion was written on his face but his eyes...Those green eyes of his that glimmered under the dim lights of the hallway made no attempt to hide the pain he must have been under. A melancholy air seemed to emanate from him and it reached your soul so easily, it sent shivers down your spine.

“I, uh, excuse me, are you alright? Do you live here?”

There was something familiar about him, something you couldn’t put a finger on but knew you’d seen before. And not too long ago.

“Yes, I mean...Fleck, I live here with my mother?”

_Fleck_, right...Your landlady had mentioned a few things about him. Apparently, he was a strange and mysterious man who was barely seen by the others. You supposed she was right, that was the first time you were meeting.

“Oh, I’ve heard the name, I just didn’t know it was you...Are you okay, you seem to be having a hard time...”

He smiled weakly. You were obviously clueless as to who he was and when you’d last looked at one another. You were clueless because now his face was all cleaned up, so were his hands that helped him commit a crime... He was also calmer now, the quietness and cold of his apartment suffocating him enough to lead him outside. But you were there now, the woman who risked her life for a stranger, the woman who seemed to be braver than him in just a few seconds.

He offered you his hand for you to shake and you did, returning his smile. He looked weathered, definitely in need of some sleep and maybe food. You wondered what his job was...Probably more exhausting and punishing than yours. 

“My name’s Arthur...”

“y/n...” 

You wanted to ask again, he really seemed like he was about to collapse at any second. But when you threw a careless glance at your watch, you realized that you were late. Vicki was probably waiting outside and Seaver was definitely not the patient type.

“I’m sorry, I’m getting late for work. Nice to meet you, Arthur...”

“You’re working at this hour?”

“Yeah, actually, I usually don’t, but now it’s an emergency. I have a job at the Gotham Gazette and there were three murders...Uh, reported and the team has to be there, you know...”

“Oh, I understand...Go ahead then...I’ll see you around.”

And so you did. Wishing him a good rest of the night, you started climbing down the stairs, a weird feeling resting in your stomach. You knew you’d go on a guilt trip once you settled into Vicki’s car. For what, though, you couldn’t tell. Just before you walked on the last step, you heard his trembling voice from the top of the stairs.

“And y/n?”

“Yeah?”

“For what happened earlier, thank you...Just hold it behind closed doors, will you?”

You frowned at his words, spending a few moments to process them. Your heart skipped a beat at the thought. Maybe he wasn’t referring to the encounter you just had. And maybe you were just too terrified to admit it.


	3. What A Time

It was all over the news. Newspapers, radio, TV. The clown murder, the clown-masked killer... It didn't take long for protests to start erupting in different parts of the city. It scared you, all it took was literally a few hours for the city to turn into an inferno. People were enraged and tired, you were aware, the politicians above all, they were aware. They should.

But there was one thing the media got wrong. One thing that only a true witness would know; The man did not wear a mask. Arthur's last words kept playing in your head like a mantra. The meaning seemed to be so simple yet you found yourself unable to decode it. Something in the pit of your stomach told you that he was not referring to your questions about his well-being.

Remaining mostly silent during work seemed to slip by without any comments. Besides, you had every reason to appear moody; you were dragged to work. It didn't take long for Vicki to start asking questions but you reassured her that you were just tired, which was not a total lie. You hadn't managed to get any sleep, plus, your mind had been overworking in an attempt to connect Arthur's words with a certain incident.

Keeping something behind closed doors meant keeping a secret. You caring about him was not worthy enough to be kept as a secret, it didn't even make sense. There was something else, a memory, an event that you two shared.

And then it hit you. All it took was just a single second for everything to click in your head. You immediately realized why he looked so familiar, why his eyes spoke volumes about him and you just didn't get it.

To say that you were terrified, would be an understatement. You felt your knees grow weak, not only had you met the murderer of the three men on the subway but you also lived at the same condominium with him. You had touched him, you had talked to him...And you knew. Hell, he knew. He knew you knew and it made your heartbeat so fast, you wanted to rip it out.

Keep it behind closed doors, will you?

You interpreted it as a clear threat. It all made sense now, of course, he wanted you to keep your mouth shut. You were not going to talk anyway but now you had an additional reason not to. Your own life was on the line, there was no way you were revealing a thing. And more importantly, you started considering moving out as soon as possible. Living in the same building with a killer was crazy, no sane person knowing that would just stay.

After work, you decided to take a long walk home, wanting clear your head a little bit. Going back home seemed dangerous now, you really didn't want to fall upon Arthur again, maybe your next meeting could end up on a fatal note. You knew that he had killed those men because they treated him awfully, but you just couldn't shake away the possibility of him snapping and hurting you too.

You didn't know the man, you didn't know him at all, but when someone reaches the point of murdering not just one person but more, there's definitely something dark overwhelming their brain. That's why you wanted to stay away. Yes, you wouldn't say a word, but that didn't mean you had to go on with your life as if you were clueless. Maybe you could ask Vicki to stay at her place for a couple of days, finding a decent place in Gotham was a difficult task that could take even months. Moving out was an important decision that you weren't ready to take yet.

For now, you'd just try to avoid him as much as you could. Luck wasn't exactly on your side when you returned home later that day, finding Arthur knocking at the door of your apartment. Your mind was telling you to take a few silent steps and run away. But is it a good idea to piss off a killer? Besides, you soon realized he'd heard your footsteps as you climbed up the stairs, leaving at that moment seemed to you like asking for death.

"Hey, y/n!" He smiled as he waved at you. You smiled back awkwardly as you walked towards him. Arthur seemed like a quiet and shy man, but he somehow radiated trust, making it difficult for you to believe he had actually killed three people.

"Hi...You were looking for me?" You asked, inspecting his hands and then his body. He didn't seem to be holding or hiding anything dangerous... A gun, a knife... Who knew?

"Yes! I wanted to invite you to one of my shows... I'm a comedian, you see, I'll be performing some of my favorite jokes tomorrow night and... Yes, I, I, it would be wonderful if there was a familiar face around if you'd like, of course."

Well, that certainly caught you off guard. You expected him to blackmail you, well literally dozens of thoughts of him abducting and torturing you flooded your brain, but there he was, surprising you in a way you didn't know how to react or respond. Was there an innuendo you weren't catching? Another message to decode, maybe?

"Uh, I don't know, I have a lot of work to catch up to...I'm sorry Arthur, maybe another time, yeah?"

Your heart dropped. Arthur seemed hurt by your words, his enthusiastic smile fading away as he ran a hand through his curls. Your rejection wasn't anything he should be taking at heart, everyone seemed to be rejecting him for his whole life...But there he was actually feeling like he had said something wrong during that total of five minutes of conversation you'd shared. You could see why the situation was strange, but he couldn't. Arthur simply went on after the killings, all it took was a few hours. You, on the other hand, couldn't get rid of it so easily.

“Oh, okay...Yes, alright. I’m sorry I bothered you-”

“Arthur, look...I’m confused...And mostly scared because-”

“Because of what I did? What I did last night?”

You sighed. So, you were doing this, after all. If you had the same mind as Vicki you would definitely grab a mic and name your next interview, _conversations with a killer. _You folded your hands to your chest as you leaned against the door frame of your apartment. Running away from the situation would only make matters worse. You mustered all strength you had, attempting to look unbothered like you were about to conversate about something normal. Besides, you were standing in the corridor, if he attempted to try anything, you could just scream and the whole floor would hear.

“Yes, isn’t it obvious? I promise I’ll pretend like it never happened but I can’t just forget it, okay? It’s too much for me...”

Arthur nodded, digging his hands in the pockets of his loose pants.

“I understand. But you don’t have to be scared, I would never hurt you. And I mean it...I know you won’t change your mind, but, here...” He took a small paper out of his pocket and handed it to you. Guilt started taking over you. Why would he think you would actually accept it? You weren’t friends, you’d only talked two times. Plus, you had witnessed a _murder, _that certainly did not work as a way of bonding...

You opened your mouth to respond but he was already walking away, knowing that the only person who he thought would actually start taking interest in him was like everybody else.

When you lay awake that night, all you could think was him and how hard he was to read. He had committed a brutal crime, yet he acted like he knew nothing about it, like he didn’t care. It was a bloody murder you were thinking about, a bloody murder you felt guilty of rejecting...

A bloody murderer you ended up seeing on stage the night after. And when he started laughing uncontrollably on the mic, you knew there was something _terribly _wrong with his attitude...Something even himself couldn’t control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I can't thank you enough for your support, I LOVE Y'ALL!


	4. Show Me

You thought about it in depth. You decided against it but it didn't take long for you to change your mind. You didn't know why you bothered considering it in the first place. But surrounded and eventually consumed by guilt, there you were, sitting at one of the tables, patiently waiting for Arthur to appear. You hadn't told him you were coming, after all, it was a last-minute decision. You couldn't understand yourself, you owed the man nothing and the fact that he was technically a criminal didn't actually make things better.

But you somehow saw good in him, you were sorry and wanted to do even the smallest of things to make him feel less miserable. You didn't need an analytical explanation, Arthur was suffering both physically and mentally and it was obvious. Did he deserve to finally be able to genuinely smile? You couldn't say for sure, crime is a crime. But what if that lack of smile was what led him to murder in the first place? The more questions started to appear in your head, the more drawn you felt. To him and his secretive way of life. It was a dangerous and dark path, a difficult route to take, a thin line you were about to cross.

But you always tried to see the good, the bright side of people. And you knew that Arthur, the real one, was somewhere hidden behind all this pain and suppression. You were already getting involved in something way bigger than you that could actually drown you but at that moment, you couldn't see it clearly. All you wanted was to help. You let yourself give in the moment you had stepped into that comedy club.

What you were unaware of was that from then on, there was no going back. No alternative routes. Just one dark path that you were willing to take in order to show Arthur that he was better than all this, the crimes, the depression. You didn't know the details of his life but you wanted to, the possibilities of you being affected by being close and talking to him were high, but it didn't matter.

You finally had the chance to do something good, there was no way you were throwing it away.

Was laughing Arthur's coping mechanism with stress? Because not long after he'd stepped foot on stage, his laugher prevented him from forming proper sentences. It was awkward, the way his hysterical voice echoed in the silent room, you couldn't even imagine what thoughts were flooding his mind. Arthur was looking all over the place and it was not that hard to see and recognize faces, especially when on stage. It didn't take long for him to lock eyes with you. And in just a few seconds, he grew quiet as if he had just flipped some kind of mental switch. You offered him a weak smile as he finally pulled himself together and went on with his show.

You didn't know how to act around him, you hadn't had a proper conversation yet but still, people pull on so many faces depending on who they're talking to. A mother will put on her_ mother _face when with her kids, her_ wife_ face when she's with her husband and her daughter one when it comes to her parents. Roles! People play so many roles daily yet they never really care enough to acknowledge it. With Arthur, you were unable to find the appropriate face, the right role, a suiting one. You were not friends and hell, he had killed people without having second thoughts. If you were a doctor, you'd definitely slap the patient label on his head but now the situation was complicated enough to give you a headache.

His jokes didn't find you opposed, if anything, some of them were way too smart for the dull audience, even funny. But the majority of these jokes were dark, associated with death and how unfair this world is. And the weight his words had, ut felt like as if a rock was suddenly thrown on your shoulders. You weren't in his place but his pain and sense of social injustice reached you easily. You didn't even bother to look at the reactions of others, you were focused on him.

When the show was over, you left as quickly as you could, in need of some fresh air. All the hidden melancholy, it was too much for you to handle. The night seemed to help, you took a few deep breaths as you closed your eyes, trying to process what you'd heard. And you were ready to live, you'd done your part and stayed just like he'd asked, you just wanted to get away and use some time alone. You really need it.

But then you saw him, Arthur, pushing the glass doors open as he ran to you, his expression confused.

"You came..."

Yes, even you were surprised yourself. You were slowly breaking down the walls you'd been building and it didn't take much time at all.

"I _did_. You were really good, Arthur, thank you for inviting me tonight..." And that was no lie.

"Are you going home?" He asked and you immediately knew what he was gonna ask. Curious to know more about him, even though you shouldn't, you decided to go along.

"Yes."

"Me too... Mind if I joined you?"

"No, not at all..."


	5. Sanity

There were so many things going on in your head that clouds soon started forming in it. You couldn’t put your thoughts into a regular and logical order. You had so many things to ask him, about his family, about his job, you didn’t want to stay silent. But your intention wasn’t to ruin his mood, Arthur seemed to be in a good one, anyway, you going to his show probably being the reason why. You kept silent as you were desperately trying to make amends with yourself and stop fighting your curiosity. He should have had it coming, you wanting to learn more. It was totally normal for two people to get to know each other but when it came to Arthur, it felt as if knowing more would create even more burdens between you.

“So… About earlier…” You just couldn’t help yourself. You were about to go inside the mind of a criminal, if he allowed you, of course, and you needed to be cautious. One wrong move and you could end up even dead.

“y/n… Did you really like the show or did you lie? I can take the truth, you know?”

No, it was never your intention to lie about it. You actually enjoyed it, even though you ended up being seriously concerned about Arthur’s mental health. The thing is, how do you ask? How do you ask if someone needs help, how do you make them open up to you and trust you? How do you unlock someone’s memories without hurting or disturbing them more? You weren’t an expert, you knew absolutely nothing about psychology… All you had was a big heart that was trying to alleviate the pain of a tortured soul even for a bit. You weren’t sure how, yet, but you just felt like Arthur was worth the trouble, after all.

“No! Of course not, I _had_ fun… Your jokes are obviously not for everyone, I hope you don’t take the audience’s reaction at heart…” You sounded defensive in the beginning, that’s why you tried to soften your voice. Upsetting him was anything but in your plans.

“I was going to, but even if one person enjoyed it, then I won’t. Especially if it’s you…”

“Arthur…” There it went, your first attempt to make yourself clear. Υou hadn’t made up your mind, you weren’t even sure what that whole thing with him was…

“I still scare you.” He stated lowly as if it was meant only for him to hear. He wasn’t wrong.

“Is it that surprising?”

“I hate to say it, but, yes, and I can’t understand why…”

You shook your head, letting out a deep sigh. Was he doing it on purpose? Was he trying to make you talk about _that_ night? Or was he so sick that he had just erased everything from his memory?

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Arthur, correct me if I’m wrong but wasn’t it like two days ago when you killed three people while dressed as a clown?”

“Well, yes, but what does that have to do with anything?”

“You have to be joking, right?”

“Since you came to my show and heard my jokes, you tell me. Does it sound like one?”

No. Not at all. And if it indeed was a joke, it was a horrible one. Arthur’s looked genuinely clueless and that was what made the situation even more concerning.

“Do you even feel the slightest of remorse? You shot them to death, Arthur! To death!” You whisper yelled at him, not wanting to cause a scene. You were still walking down the street, people were all around you, talking about Arthur’s dirty business was supposed to take place somewhere more private.

“Why would I? Didn’t you see what they did to me? This world sucks, y/n, and it’s full of people like them. The sooner you realize that the sooner you’ll get over whatever you saw a few nights ago…I feel fine, absolutely fine, look at me…” He said as he stopped in front of you, smiling as he spun slowly, raising his hands in the air.

No, that was not the real him, that was just a facade, it must have been. Arthur was not the most mentally stable person out there, that was a fact, but you expected to hear something else from him. Maybe that he hadn’t slept ever since the incident. Maybe that he felt so guilty he was considering surrender. Maybe that he simply decided to leave it behind.

Not only did Arthur remember his cruel doings, but he also felt absolutely nothing about it. If anything, he seemed satisfied with his choice. Like he’d actually done something beneficial for society.

“That’s not how it works, Arthur… Lives are not money or candy to steal, they’re… They’re lives! And it’s not in our hands to serve justice… That’s the role of the politicians we vote for-”

“Sometimes THEY are not enough! What did politicians do when I was starving? What did politicians do when I was robbed and beaten up? What did they do, y/n? What did they do when everyone told me that I was not good enough, that I AM not good enough? Nothing. They only care about power and money. I never did. All I ever wanted was to be treated like a human being and they couldn’t even offer me that! So don’t try to tell me what’s wrong and right because_ IT. WILL. NOT. WORK!_”

You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to prevent the tears creeping in your eyes from escaping their sockets. The way his voice raised, the way he seemed to be meaning every single word he said… It was all too much. You had convinced yourself that you were prepared for something like that, but clearly, you were taken down way too easily. You said nothing, your gaze focusing on your shoes. It was the first time he was having an outburst like that, at least what you knew of.

“Shit, I- I’m sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine. I understand. And you have every right to be bitter and furious. But still, taking lives is not a change for the better, you become like one of them, like…I’ll just… Uh… I think I’ll just take a walk around. _Alone_.”

“y/n-”

“Go home, Arthur. Thanks for tonight…”

And it was fine. Honestly. At least it was going to be. Maybe you weren’t ready, after all. Maybe your own mind was so tangled you couldn’t actually make it and help Arthur. Seeing his point of you would mean that your own sanity was slowly abandoning you. And that’s what you feared the most.

You thought of his words again and again. Afraid to lose your sanity. You saw his point. But he was a killer. Society spat on his face. Afraid to lose your sanity. He had a point. It wasn’t that tragic after all. He was fine, you were fine, what else mattered?


	6. Try

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today is World Mental Health Day. Please love and take care of yourself. Don't be afraid to ask for help, there are so many people who care and want to help you. You are important! Again, thank you for reading, love you all! <3

He felt awful. _Awful._ He had to learn how to control himself, it wasn't like he couldn't. It was just hard, really hard to do so. He knocked on your door the next morning before going to work. He didn't care if you were sleeping, he didn't know if you were already gone, he just wanted to see you, hear your voice. He spent the night beating himself up for the way he acted and he wanted to make up.

"y/n, are you there? I'm sorry! I promise I won't yell at you like that again! Ever!"

You had to open up. You had to let him apologize. He knew you were unaware but the connection Arthur felt... You were a kind human being, soft-hearted and fragile, a gift sent from the universe. Meaning that there was still hope for him, that he could eventually stop being on his knees. That with you by his side, he could be helped and finally stand on his own two feet. In his miserable life, you were the only one who cared enough to talk to him, attend his show, hell, even lecture him about his murders. You were special, different, in a way Arthur couldn't pinpoint. He couldn't just let you slip from his grasp.

But were you ever there in the first place? What if all of these interactions were just creations of his mind? What if you were too good to be true? With a messed up mind like his, he couldn't find a way to confirm it. He just hoped. Hoped that when he would wake up the next morning and the morning after that, you'd still exist.

"I'm a messed up person, I know I am. But everyone has someone, right? Someone to lean on? I have no one. And if you leave me too, I don't know what I'll do..."

The door slowly unlocked and eventually opened, but the chain remained on it.

"You have your mother..." You croaked.

"Hey! Hey... I thought you left..."

"Well, obviously I didn't."

You'd heard it all. You didn't catch any sleep at all, getting a good night's rest was a long distant friend at that point, first your job and then Arthur, it was wearing you out.

"Are you mad at me?"

"No, Arthur, I'm _not._ It's just...Give me a second." You knew he wasn't going to leave that easily. You'd made the mistake to let hin trust you and now you had to slowly start facing the consequences.

You closed the door to undo the chain and you hesitantly opened it again. It was rude for you to hide in your apartment while he awkwardly stood in the hallway. As soon as Arthur met your whole figure, he didn't spend another moment and just walked to you and hugged you. He put his arms around you so desperately, holding you as if you were going to disappear forever. You felt uncomfortable in his embrace. You wanted to hug him too, you so much wanted to because he needed it. And he deserved it, he deserved to be hugged and loved.

But you were frozen. You just stood there, hands hanging, as you let him bury his head into your shoulder. You just blinked and waited to pull away. You couldn't offer him the affection he needed, you thought you'd be able, but you just couldn't, especially when thinking about those three men dying almost instantly on the subway.

"I'm sorry, I'll do better, I promise I'll try to do better, ask me to and I will try to do better... I want to do better... I _want_ to be better..."

If you hadn't spent all your tears the other night, you would definitely be crying now.

Sad. Arthur, his life...Just, _sad_. And that sadness had long settled in your heart and started absorbing the light from your face that mirrored your soul. You thought you'd be able to absorb or bounce it away, but instead, it was already consuming you.

"See? That's what I mean..." You finally spoke, as he pulled away.

"What?"

"We... We can't work. We're not friends and I hate to say this but I cannot trust you, Arthur. I can't. I want to be here for you but-"

"You know what, I get it. It was stupid of me to think that there was one person in this world that actually cared. It's not your fault, it's mine. I'm sorry I wasted your time."

That's how it'd been, going back and forth with him was not progress at all. And your thoughts were tangled, one moment you felt ready to undertake the difficult task of trying to help him, the other you just felt like this involvement would cost you so much more than you could imagine.

You could at least try.

"Hey..." You sighed at the sight of him walking away.

"Arthur!" Great, he was ignoring you now. You quickly put some shoes on and grabbed your bag, leaving for work a little earlier wouldn't make any harm.

"Arthur, I'm talking to you! Wait!" The keys trembled in your hands too as you struggled to lock the door. When 6iu finally did, you practically ran to the elevator where Arthur stood, waiting to get in.

"Am I hearing voices? Good for you, Arthur, good for you..."

"You're not hearing voices, you dumbo! Hey, look at me!"

And he did. Completely emotionless, as if he was made of ice, he turned around in an instant and you almost fell on him. You took a few cautious steps back, wiping some invisible dust from your jeans.

"Look...I can't promise I'll be here forever, but for as long as I do, I'll try to make the best out of it. What do you say?"


	7. Mind Clouds

The bathroom door slammed shut with a loud bang. You locked it with quick moves before collapsing on the floor, you back leaning against the cold wood. You let yourself cry, there was nothing else you could do. You were tired, so tired, you could pass out at any moment.

It hurt. The fact that all the progress that seemed to me made was instantly erased. His words were like knives that instead of wounding him, were turned towards and stabbing you and your heart. What a fool you were, thinking that he was getting better. All the smiles he gave you, the better sleep he seemed to be getting, these were all signs of progress. And yet with just a few sentences, he’d managed to destroy the positive image you were starting to form.

_“My boss wants me to take some shots of the city, I could use some company…”  
_

_“y/n, I don’t know-”  
_

_“Come on, Arthur, it’ll be fun! Fresh air will do you good, I promise. Plus, rooftops always make the city look beautiful.”_

You weren’t the type to jump into generalized conclusions but maybe severely damaged people couldn’t be fixed. You ended up telling him that. You knew you shouldn’t have but his confession shook you to the ground. You couldn’t believe your ears, the way he looked so peaceful, as if he’d set himself free from some kind of bond…It scared and sickened you.

_“I can walk you to work today if you want.”  
_

_“Really? Thank you, Arthur, that’s really kind of you. How about some coffee along the way? My treat…”  
_

One day Arthur kindly asked to take you to his mother because she was constantly asking to see you. Which meant he had not only mentioned but also talked about you. She was a really kind and welcoming woman, you thought about her last moments and cried harder. Whatever she did in her younger life, it was wrong. But everyone deserved a second chance. She deserved to live the rest of her years at home, watching her favorite show in peace.

_“Hello, you must be Arthur’s girlfriend! I hope you don’t forget about poor old me too soon!”  
_

_“Uh, actually, we’re just-”  
_

_“Mother! She’s just my friend!”_

_Friend!_ You thought you were getting there. But friends don’t lie to friends. Friends listen to each other. If Arthur was truly trying to be your friend, he wouldn’t play games with your trust he fought to gain a fragment of. He shouldn’t have kept whatever he did a secret. Being honest with you would mean that he understood he did wrong. But he just couldn’t see it. Like the night at the train, it was starting to become a habit now…You let yourself believe that Arthur was your friend. For a split minute. Then everything started tumbling down again and there you were, not having a clue as to what to do.

_“Why are you doing that?”  
_

_“What?”  
_

_“Closing yourself into the damn fridge? Thank God I came, do you want to freeze to death?”_

It was just two nights ago when he knocked on your door, angry with dried tears on his face. He’d thrown his mother’s undelivered letter at you to read it. As your eyes scanned the underlined words, Arthur explained the whole situation with Thomas Wayne and how he was apparently his _damn_ son. You managed to calm him down after a whole two hours. He slept on your lap as you reassured him that all could be solved with a simple conversation.

You were wrong. Because, apparently, Arthur’s way of solving his problems was killing them.

Next thing you knew, his mother was dead. 

_“Why did you do it?”  
_

_“Wouldn’t you do it?”  
_

_“I wouldn’t.”  
_

_“She ruined my life, y/n! That’s the reason I’m here rotting all by myself! She’s the reason I’m laughing every time I want to fucking cry!”  
_

_“You didn’t even give her the chance to speak to you about it!”  
_

_“She should have spoken up when he was beating me up! But she didn’t because she didn’t care. She never did! People get what they fucking deserve!”  
_

_“You are no God, Arthur, what she did to you was terrible, but the woman was mentally ill! You had no right-”  
_

_“I had every right! I feel better now, actually. I’ll be able to focus on my career as a comedian. Besides, she told me I was not funny, can you believe it?”_

You slightly jumped at the sound of him knocking the door.

“y/n…”

“Leave. Just. Leave.”

You wish you were there to protect him from all the important, even little things that shaped his mind. Arthur would be one of the best comedians, booking shows in theaters all over the city, get bigger, even. He would laugh with his heart as he poured it into his material. You imagined yourself next to that Arthur. Going out with him, maybe. 

“I told myself that the best thing to do is push you away. Abandoning me will finally be your salvation, we both know that. But I can’t because I’m selfish. So can you please accept me the way I am?”

He had to be kidding. No, he had to be in a way more serious state than you’d met him in. Him showing signs of improvement was an illusion, yes, he was crumbling and you thought he was getting rid of all the negative thoughts. Arthur was just planning his next murder, wasn’t he? All he needed was a reason and there, thoughts could become actions in the blink of an eye.

“Accept a murderer? For what? You’ve messed up the meaning of acceptance, Arthur. I can accept a mentally pressured and depressed person, I can accept his plead for help, I can accept his fucking lies about wanting to change. But I can never and nor will I _ever _accepta killer.”

The bangs on the door were getting louder, he didn’t reply, he just took all his anger out at the poor door. It didn’t take long for him to start laughing. And Arthur laughed, hard. As if what you’ve said was one of the best jokes he’d ever heard in his entire life.

_“Have you ever tried counting the stars?”  
_

_“Is this why you brought me up here?”  
_

_“Damn, Fleck, you got me…”  
_

_“I never felt the need to. And now there’s the brightest one, sitting next to me, trying to fix an old camera. So what’s the point?”  
_

_“Ew, this is worse than the penny joke. And my camera’s not old, excuse you!”_

The sound of his voice was driving you insane. Your blood was boiling, you wished you could slap some sense into him. But it was Arthur, nothing made sense, him, your relationship with him, nothing. You gathered all strength in your body to stand up. That was it. You were done, for good. You tried to put the fact that he’d killed to the side and call it an event to the past. You believed people can change and evolve, turned out people didn’t include the man behind the door. And opening it meant that he had got you again. It was like opening the door to your heart again. 

Arthur had to understand that you were not going to keep putting up with his crimes. You just rested your head against the door, praying that he’d just give up. Giving in first was going to make things worse.

“I’m sorry!”

“We both know you’re not. Leave.” 

Silence filled the atmosphere after a while. His laugh died out and soon did his footsteps. You waited some more before going out. You expected him to jump out from some wall or room, but nothing. He had left. 

_“Can I hold your hand?”  
_

_“Why?”  
_

_“I don’t know. It feels nice…”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tremendous amount of love this story is getting, oh boy, thank you seems like an understatement! Stick around, the finale will be sick, promise! (pun intended btw)


	8. Deliverance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the original ending but don't worry, I'll post the alternative one soon! Thank you so so much for reading this reaaally messy story! All love!

You decided to focus on your job. You actually asked to work some extra time, to keep your mind occupied. Vicki was worried about you and didn’t even try to hide it and her treating you like a child was starting to get on your nerves. You had skillfully managed to avoid her questions and concerned looks, maybe the time you’d spent with Arthur wasn’t a total waste.

You were trying to convince yourself that you didn’t care about Arthur, that you didn’t care about where he was, if he was looking for a new job, if he was eating, if he’d killed again. But who were you fooling? You were dying to know, the time you’d spent together meant more to you than you thought. You couldn’t just erase it and move on, you could never. And you hated it, you hated your brain for causing you to miss him. What was wrong with you? You’d told yourself that you’d try to move on, you’d done your part and it didn’t matter if things ended without success. But there you were, wanting to knock on his door, see how he’s been doing…

You’d never seen Murray’s show and when you’d tell that to others, you’d always get weird looks. Apparently, it was quite famous among literally everyone. And you’d sit in front of your TV and watch it if you had the time. But working at the Gotham Gazette required watchfulness and constant availability. Your TV was barely on, the news would literally pass from your hands, anyway, what more was there to know?

Vicki loved doctor Sally, she was an intelligent woman with a sense of humor that was admirable enough for Murray Franklin to invite her to his show. Vicki insisted you joined her, not as coworkers but as friends. Indeed, it had been a while since you spent time together besides work. Plus, it was a good opportunity for you to finally see why so many men and women, children and adults were freaking out over this show. 

Looking back, you wished you’d just stayed home.

Everything seemed to be going well. The older man was a decent host, you sometimes found his comments too invasive and nosy, but Vicki’s smile was enough to make you smile too. You’d almost forgotten how it felt to hang out with _normal _people, maybe just _people. _

And then it happened. The beginning of the end started without you noticing. The universe hated you, maybe that was the case. What had you done wrong? You’d always tried to measure things and not exceed any limits. What the hell did you do wrong for luck to punish you like that?

“Now, before he comes out, I just want to say, that we’re all heartbroken about what’s going on in the city tonight, but this is how he wanted to come out. Now, honestly, I think we could all use a good laugh. So, please welcome Joker!” 

Refreshed, yes, maybe that was the word. Showered by applause and shouts, embraced by light, he walked out with so much confidence, you barely recognized him. His makeup was beautiful, he seemed like he was actually taking the whole things seriously. And his smile, it was the biggest one you’d ever seen, he was absolutely elated. A narcissist, you concluded, he enjoyed the spotlight, it felt as if he was feeding and living off of it. That was not the Arthur you’d met. That was indeed Joker. And you weren’t laughing at all.

“Are you alright? Are you dizzy, do you want some water?”

“I’m fine, this is just stupid, that’s all…”

“I don’t know, I actually find him interesting. He must be used to charming all the ladies…”

You just rolled your eyes, trying not to think about it too much. So what, he was Murray’s guest…He was probably going to perform and leave. So what, he didn’t tell you about it. It wasn’t like you had a close relationship. Besides, you’d ended it. So_ fucking_ what?

“Well, that was quite an entrance…” Arthur sat down on the couch, staring at the audience. The lump in your throat was getting bigger and bigger, you just hoped it would end soon, Murray’s intentions weren’t the best and you knew it. Arthur had told you about him, he’d cried when he saw Murray that night on TV, he’d made fun of him and it was embarrassing. You felt sorry for Arthur, his celebrity idol speaking like that about him…What you couldn’t understand was why he’d accepted to go there in the first place. Something was not clicking. Could it possibly be his idea?

“You okay?”

“Yeah. This is exactly how I imagined it.”

“Well, that makes one of us.”

Everyone started laughing as they clapped, but you were starting to get worried. Arthur liked being the center of attention but you knew this was wrong, it would hurt him, why the hell was he doing that to himself?

“So, can you tell us about this look? When we spoke earlier, you mentioned that this look is not a political statement. Is that right?”

“That’s, right, Murray. I’m not political. I’m just trying to make people laugh.”

“And how’s that going for you?”

He was just trying to make people laugh. A man that was tromped until he lost his mind was again trying to serve the same people that brought him in this state. All he wanted was to see the smile on someone’s face, someone that wasn’t him, for he was never be able to see it in himself. 

Murray was pushing his buttons, you just knew it. Arthur was laughing but he was not _laughing. _And the more time passed, the more your heart started to ache for him. You wish you could just get him out of there. He deserved better than that. Way better, so much more than that, if only he could see it too…

“So, I know you’re a comedian. Have you been working on any new material? You want to tell us a joke?”

“Yeah?”

“He’s got a book. A book of jokes!” 

_No_. Something was off, Arthur knew his jokes like his full name, taking out his notebook from his back pocket must have been some part of the joke. But what kind of joke was that? And why was it taking him so long to decide? You noticed his scraggy hands shaking for a few seconds. 

“Take your time, we got all night…”

“This is bullshit…” You said through gritted teeth, as you lifted yourself up. This had to end.

“Where are you going? Wait, he’s about to tell the joke! y/n!” Vicki whispered but you just ignored her, passing through the seated people, trying to spot the director, the coordinator, someone, anyway. They had to do something.

“Okay, okay. Here’s one. Knock, knock…”

“And you had to look that up?”

“I want to get it right. Knock, knock.”

“Who’s there?”

_“It’s the police, ma’am. Your son’s been hit by a drunk driver, he’s dead.”_

“Excuse me…” You whispered to one of the men behind the cameras. He gave you a weird look, waiting for you to move on.

“Look, you have to stop. This man up there, he’s not okay…He can’t be on live television, please, can you maybe stop the program-”

“Who are you miss? It was his choice to come here, in case you don’t know. Everything’s going as scheduled, please return to your seat…”

“No, no, no, you don’t understand-”

“Okay. Yeah, I’m sorry. It’s just, you know, it’s been a rough few weeks, Murray. Ever since I killed those three Wall Street guys.”

And then you both stopped. You froze on the spot, not being able to believe what you’d heard. Did Arthur just confess his crime? No, you must have misunderstood, this was not happening…

“You’re serious, aren’t you? You’re telling us you killed those three young men on the subway?” Murray asked as the audience gasped.

“Mm-hmm…”

“And why should we believe you?

“I’ve got nothing left to lose. Nothing can hurt me anymore. My life is nothing but a comedy.”

You wanted to scream, to just barge in there and pull him away. It was like stabbing himself repeatedly, and he smiled, he smiled at the sight of everyone being caught off guard, being absolutely terrified. He enjoyed the cuts he was causing to himself. 

“Stop the live broadcast, for God’s shake!” You pleaded as you tugged the man’s shirt. He shook his head. 

“Are you kidding me? This is exclusive content, this is crazy! Zoom on his face, Jackie!”

“Let me get this straight, you think that k*lling those guys is funny?”

“I do. And I’m tired of pretending it’s not. Comedy is subjective, Murray. Isn’t that what they say? All of you, the system that knows so much, you decide what’s right or wrong. The same way that you decide what’s funny or not.” 

No, he didn’t mean those things. The Arthur you knew was a killer but he was not like that. You felt someone pulling you away and you turned your head to see Vicki, holding her mobile phone.

“This piece of shit actually works! I called the office, we’re getting back up, we can’t miss this, y/n! Come on, I have my camera in the car-”

“No, no! We have to stop the show, now! Vicki, please, this is not about headlines, this is about a human being…”

Arthur raised his voice, catching your attention. You just stood there, trying to calm yourself down. No use, all it took was a few more words to come out of Arthur’s mouth to activate the only mechanism you had for tough situations.

“Oh, why is everybody _so_ upset about these guys? If it was me dying on the sidewalk, you’d walk right over me. I pass you every day and you don’t notice me! But these guys, what, because Thomas Wayne went and cried about them on TV?”

Arthur was reaching his breaking point, you could feel it. And between tears, you tried to pull away from Vicki who was holding you tightly in an attempt to stop you from entering the set. There was no other way, you didn’t care if the world found out who you were and how you ended up knowing him. You only thought about Arthur and the way his face was starting to take that expression nobody but him could know what it meant.

“Do you have a problem with Thomas Wayne?”

“Yes, I do. Have you seen what it’s like out there, Murray? Do you ever actually leave the studio? Everybody just yells and screams at each other. Nobody’s civil anymore! Nobody thinks what it’s like to be the other guy. You think men like Thomas Wayne ever think what it’s like to be someone like me? To be somebody but themselves? They don’t. They think that we’ll just sit down and take it like good little boys! That we won’t werewolf and go wild!”

“Vicki, please we have to help Arthur, please, make them stop!” You said between sobs, something bad was going to happen, you knew Arthur, he ended his problems on the spot and without hesitation…

“You know him? You know this madman?”

“I, I’ll explain everything, just please, let’s stop this now!”

“How about another joke, Murray?”

“No, I think we’ve had enough of your jokes.”

“What do you get…”

“I don’t think so…”

“…when you cross…

“I think we’re done with the show. That’s it.”

“…a mentally ill loner with a society that abandons him and treats him like trash?”

“Call the police, Gene. Call the police!”

“I’ll tell you what you get! You get what you _fucking_ deserve!”

“Arthur, I’m here! Please don’t do it, no!” He saw you and something in his face changed, just for a split second. But you weren’t quick enough

Time stopped. Time stopped the second the deadly bullet reached Murray’s head. A tragedy, that’s what it was. A tragedy. From the moment he was adopted until that very moment he pulled the gun out, all of it, it was a tragedy. Doomed, eternally trapped in madness.

Your knees immediately gave in at the sound of the gunshot and you collapsed on the floor, your hands covering your eyes. Screams everywhere, people stepping over you as they ran away and a hysterical Vicki trying to pull you back up.

“Oh my God, oh my sweet God, y/n please get up, holy shit, please get up, we have to get the hell out!”

You pushed her away and this time she let you.

“Are you crazy?”

“Yes I’m crazy, I’m fucking nuts! Leave me alone, just go!” And she did. Especially when she saw Arthur looking at you, she ran like she hadn’t before, the fear of losing her life was bigger than her will to help you. But you couldn’t blame her, you probably would have done the same.

But for the first time, you trusted Arthur. You trusted that he wouldn’t hurt you. You had absolutely no reason to believe that, yet you did. Behind the clown, there was still the man who was proud of his silly jokes, the man who had held your hand, the man who was now kneeling in front of you, with a smile on his face.

“I’m so happy you’re here! Did you see that? I did amazing!” He removed your hands, to see your face. You looked up at him bitterly, feeling nothing. Just tears running down your cheeks, it didn’t mean a thing. Were you sorry for Murray? Were you sorry for Arthur’s mother? Were you sorry for the men on the subway? Yes. Because no matter what they did, they deserved a fucking second chance, just like you gave one to Arthur.

You placed your shaky hands on his cheeks covered in Murray’s blood.

“Oh, Arthur, oh poor Arthur…I’m sorry, I’m sorry I could never help…”

“It’s all over now…We can be happy together, just say it and we’ll get away together, I won’t let them touch you, ever…”

But they did. Because not long after the police entered the studio and pulled you apart, him screaming your name and you crying because you could see the end already.

It was never a comedy.

════════════════ 

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m okay… It’s nice here, actually. Well, I wouldn’t mind them changing the color of the walls though…”

You both laugh. He opens his palm for you to place your hand in. You smile softly as you do.

“Arthur, I’m moving to Metropolis…”

“Oh?”

“Yes. An old friend of mine offered me a really nice job, still a reporter, but you know, better conditions…My parents are there too, so…”

“You’ll be visiting?”

“Of course, if you’re still here.”

“You know I won’t, y/n…”

“I don’t want you to do it…”

“But you won’t tell me to stop…”

Arthur will be okay. He may have to kill, steal, cheat along the way, but he will. He will be free and okay. 

You will too. Maybe not yet, but soon. At some point.

For now, you_ put on a happy face. _


End file.
